CHAPTER 8
James
(The following passage contains mature situations/themes like strong language and minor violence. Please read with caution.)
I was in my room listening to the new Spencer Sutherland song, doodling in my notebook hoping it'd be a good distraction. It was finally turning 3 pm and everyone from school was starting to come back. I knew everyone would be on edge since the incident from earlier. Not to mention I skipped most of my classes today.
I could hear my desk clock ticking away even through the headphones. I could hear people below me in the main dining hall, since my room was almost the top level of the house, it was sometimes hard for me to make out exactly what they were saying, but I knew when they were talking to each other and when people came into the den.
Soon, around twenty minutes later, I heard Ava come home, followed by Owen. Their parents are there always waiting for them to return home. It's normal for a family member to greet each other on our long journey even if it isn't anything special than just going to school, it is always a celebration when we aren't found. I hear Bella come in afterward, her parents sadly passed away long ago, so every day her grandma always greets her. When I'm around, I usually see them touching foreheads with their eyes closed.. the utmost greeting you can give our loved ones. Next, I hear Finn barging in. Everyone loves him. People always gather when he comes home. He's basically the next in line in case anything happens to me. I hear people going a bit silent, but still talking a bit back and forth when he comes home.
Finally, after a few minutes, I heard the whole room go silent. I knew what that meant. My father was home. My heart starts to beat a bit faster. I know he's going to be mad. Right now I can imagine him walking around everyone giving them a proper welcome and thank you. As the pack leader, it's their job to always keep the peace. After a few minutes, I heard a short growl. He was pissed I thought to myself. " JAMES!" I hear him yell from 3 floors below. " Get down here now" he growls.I hesitated before walking down the stairs, my legs feeling like lead with every step. The dining hall, usually filled with chatter and warmth, was unnervingly quiet. All eyes were cast downward, a silence heavier than anything I’d felt before. My father stood in the center of the room, his tall frame commanding the space, his hands on his hips—a posture I’d come to associate with impending anger.
"Come here," he says a bit softer but stern. I can feel my heart beating faster with every step. Everyone was looking to the ground, not wanting to be noticed by my father, since he was so upset. I stopped a few feet away, my gaze fixed firmly on the floor. The sound of my heartbeat thudded in my ears, drowning out the room. He exhaled sharply, and it felt like the air in the room had thinned, pressing against my chest.
"Look at me," he says in his stern tone. I didn't want to at first, but if I didn't I knew it'd make things worse so I did. I forced myself to meet his piercing grayish-blue eyes, bracing for the storm. The slap came out of nowhere, sharp and stinging, and I stumbled slightly, my hand instinctively rising to my cheek. A wave of shock rippled through the room—the audible gasp from the pack was deafening in the silence. Tears welled in my eyes, both from the pain and the humiliation of being struck in front of everyone. I caught a glimpse of Ava burying her face into Owen’s shoulder, her quiet sobs breaking what little composure I had left.
" I'm very disappointed in you, I already told you and everyone here we need to keep hidden!" He yells at me in front of everyone. " not only did you overrule my command, you did it at school where someone fucking saw you!" He continues to yell at me.
I wanted to scream the truth—to tell him I transformed because I found my mate, because the pull was unbearable. But the words lodged in my throat, suffocated by the weight of his anger and the fear of making things worse." This is a lesson to everyone! We must stay hidden! Do I make myself clear?" He says loudly for everyone to hear. "Yes my alpha" everyone replies. As he walked past me, his disappointment hung in the air, heavier than any slap. I felt it in every step he took, in every tense second of silence that followed. He paused at the base of the stairs, his back to me. "James, you're grounded until I say otherwise. Do I make myself clear?" His voice was calmer now, but it cut just as deeply.I hadn’t moved since he slapped me, frozen in place. My voice came out hoarse and barely audible. "Yes, my alpha," I replied, my eyes fixed on the floor, too afraid to meet his gaze.
He went up the stairs, and everyone slowly started talking again and moving. Ava approached me cautiously, her hand reaching out as if to comfort me. But I couldn’t bear to face her sympathy or anyone else’s pity. I shoved past her, ignoring the murmurs and concerned looks, and bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, desperate to escape.
Once I was in my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it, the sound echoing in the hollow silence. My cheek still burned, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. He had hit me. My father had struck me—not just as a punishment but as a lesson, a public display of dominance.
I sank to the floor, my back against the door, and let out a shaky breath. The realization of being grounded settled over me like a cage. No woods. No escape. No Oliver. My chest tightened at the thought of him, at the impossibility of explaining why I wouldn’t be at school. I was trapped, not just in the den but in the weight of what had just happened.
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The Next Morning
The sunlight streaming through the windows did little to brighten my mood. I barely slept, replaying the humiliation of yesterday over and over again in my head. I knew I deserved the punishment, but the fact that it happened in front of the entire pack still stung. By the time I shuffled into the kitchen, my father was already there, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Morning,” he said without looking up, his voice calm but firm.
“Morning,” I muttered, my throat dry as I poured myself a glass of water.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
I hesitated for a moment before obeying, the wooden chair creaking slightly as I settled in. The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, he set his mug down and looked at me with those sharp gray-blue eyes that always seemed to see right through me.“You know why I did what I did yesterday,” he began.I nodded, though the knot in my chest tightened. “Because I broke the rules.” His expression softened slightly, but only just. “It wasn’t just about breaking the rules, James. You endangered the pack. You’re going to be Alpha one day. Every action you take reflects on all of us. If you can’t control yourself, how can you expect the pack to trust you to lead?”
“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I wish it didn’t have to be in front of everyone.”His gaze lingered on me for a moment, and for the first time since yesterday, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. “I didn’t enjoy it, James. But sometimes, leadership means making hard choices. The pack needed to see that I hold everyone accountable—even you.”I looked down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with my finger. “I understand. I’ll do better.”
“I know you will,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re a good son, James. And one day, you’ll be a great Alpha. But being Alpha isn’t just about strength or dominance—it’s about responsibility. It’s about putting the pack’s safety above everything else, even your pride.” I swallowed hard, his words settling heavy in my chest. “I’ll make it right,” I said firmly.
He reached across the table and placed a hand on my shoulder. It was a small gesture, but it carried more weight than any words. “I know you will,” he said. “Now get ready for the day. The pack needs to see that you’re moving forward.”As he stood and walked out of the kitchen, I sat there for a moment, staring at the spot where his hand had been. The knot in my chest hadn’t disappeared, but it felt a little looser. Maybe he was right—maybe I could make it right.
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